


chin up, peter (a tribute to Stan Lee)

by everythingspiteful



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mild Blood, Mild Language, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Stan Lee passed away this morning and i just felt the need to write something nice, he was an inspiration to us all. may he rest easy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 22:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16607018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingspiteful/pseuds/everythingspiteful
Summary: Michelle gives him an uncharacteristic look of concern, her eyes sweeping over his bent form. "Do you want a hug?"Peter blinks in surprise. "What?""You look really, I dunno... tense." She blows a strand of hair out of her face. "Is it okay if I hug you? I know sometimes it helps. Plus I feel like we're all really stressed today and could use something to hold onto."Peter looks down at his hands. They're shaking. "That... that actually sounds nice."ORIn which a legend passed away and I felt like I had to write something.Also, Peter deserves love.





	chin up, peter (a tribute to Stan Lee)

**Author's Note:**

> found out today in math class. my friend told me and i thought he was playing a mean joke so i flipped him off. i should probably apologize to him.
> 
> Stan Lee was such an inspiration to me and really kept me going through some tough times. Marvel is literally my escape. i don't know if i could live without it, as dramatic as that sounds. it's my largest source of inspiration and makes me really happy.
> 
> i wish i could've met him once. just to tell him how much he, as well as the world he created, means to me.
> 
> rest easy, Stan. you will be missed.
> 
> excelsior!

Peter takes a long sip out of his coffee mug. He taps the table. Looks down at the floor.

"Peter," May prompts.

He scrunches up his nose and examines the mug, though he knows it like the back of his hand: it's an Avengers mug, the team's logos printed all over the surface. Iron-Man, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Hawkeye-

"It's okay if you don't want to talk," May continues in a low voice. "But just know that I'm here for you, Pete."

He continues to examine the mug, like the dumb, stalling teenager he is.

"I love you, Peter." A beat. "I  _larb_ you."

That brings a smile to his face.

It's, what, two am? And he's still in his Spider-Man suit. With a large hoodie on, because it's November and it always gets uncomfortably cold in November. Also, it's raining.

Depressing.

Her fingernails tap on the side of her mug, the  _clink-clink_ resounding sharply in his ears. Finally he sighs, realizing that stalling is really getting him nowhere.

One more sip can't hurt, of course.

Eventually Peter looks up at his aunt, starting at how awful she looks. Dark circles rest beneath tired eyes. She looks thinner, too, and Peter wonders with a jolt if it's because she's worried about  _him._

He doesn't realize he's begun crying until she gets up from her spot at the table and hurries over to give him a hug.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, letting go of the mug to clutch at her arms. "I'm sorry, sorry, sorry-"

"Hush," she says.

God, he'd made her worry  _so much._ Peter remembered the shots fired in the street not two hours before, the adrenaline and cars and people screaming, the press recording everything live for his aunt to see from her home, utterly helpless.

He didn't get hurt too badly, thank God. Narrowly missed getting shot. The only real injury he sustained is a nasty blow to his ribs when a car rammed itself into him. Luckily it will have healed by tomorrow morning.

Peter feels almost silly for crying now. He doesn't even  _deserve_ to cry; it's not like  _he's_  the one staying up late every night to watch the news just so he can make sure his nephew comes home safely.

"Sorry," he says again.

Aunt May just hugs him tighter. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"And, Peter-" her voice cracks, "-I'm so proud of you. You know that?"

Peter doesn't reply. He listens to his aunt's heartbeat, which sounds frantic and makes the tears fall faster.

"You saved... God, I don't even know how many people. A lot. You saved a lot. And you do it without expecting anything in return."

He lets out a shaky laugh. "I like helping people."

"You're too good." She gives him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "The world doesn't deserve you."

The rain taps loudly against the window. It's almost loud enough to drown out the quickening of May's heartbeat and how the worry surrounding her grows thicker with each passing day.

* * *

It's strange, having two completely different identities.

Sometimes Peter forgets who's supposed to be who; is the person at school supposed to be nerdy and shy, an easy target, or is he strong and confident and everything Peter became  _after_ the bite? Is the person on the streets talkative or more reserved? 

Do they even belong to the same body? Because sometimes Peter feels like he splits himself in half every day to live - one body for Spider-Man, the other for shy, awkward Parker.

Ned sees the change firsthand. He knows Peter has always been more outgoing than he lets on, but after the bite, that side became much more prominent. He cracks jokes more often, now. Then Ned found out about Spider-Man, and Peter feels like he can be himself, not two different people, and finally hold a conversation without slipping up.

(Mr. Stark doesn't count. He's amazing and wonderful and like a very famous father to Peter, and he didn't know Peter before the bite, so there was never a need to pretend.)

(After Aunt May catches him in his suit, things became rather tense at home. But it's refreshing to be able to use his powers freely there, like stick to the ceiling if he feels like it, without having to worry about being found out.)

"I can hear them talking shit about the new girl," Peter murmurs during lunch, bent over his uneaten sandwich. 

Ned looks up from his own food. "Who?"

"Flash and his friends. They're saying stuff about her weight." He curls his fists. "And how her eyes are too far apart."

Ned frowns, staring angrily at the laughing jocks. He won't ever know how much Peter actually hears around the lunch room. It makes him lose focus, sometimes, what with how crisp all the words around him are. It's almost unbearable. "Jackasses."

Peter presses his hands over his ears in an effort to block out the sound. 

"You wanna head somewhere with less noise?" Ned offers.

It's said softly and with so much understanding that Peter almost tears up. "If it's okay."

His friend grins at him, collecting both their lunches in his arms as he stands up from the table. "Let's go to the library."

Almost subconsciously, Peter leans into him as they walk. His friend is warm and soft and makes him feel  _safe._ His spider-sense seems to almost  _shrink_ as he gets closer to him, as if Ned is the safest person he could be with. Peter doesn't disagree.

They quickly find a seat at the library. Peter isn't hungry, but Ned makes him eat a few bites of his sandwich anyway. The texture is scratchy and the flavors almost too much in his mouth. 

He leans against Ned instead and listens as the boy tells him a random story from a few years back, something with no relevance, yet Peter finds himself enraptured by Ned's every word.

He tries not to close his eyes, knowing that if he does, all he would see are the red and blue lights of police cars.

* * *

Peter stumbles into decathlon practice fifteen minutes late.

It's not like it's his fault (really, what kind of idiot tries to rob a bank in  _broad daylight?_ ), he  _knows_ that, but he still can't help the twinge of guilt when he looks upon his teammates' disappointed expressions.

Except for Ned, who just smiles reassuringly.

"Quit standing there and get to it," Michelle says from the small podium at the front of the room. She doesn't look disappointed, either. Her eyebrow is cocked and her lips are pulled taut, but she looks like that most of the time, so really, Peter has no idea what she's actually thinking about his tardiness.

He can't tell if that makes him feel better.

They get along with the meeting and Peter makes up for his late arrival by answering most questions correctly, and Abe's whistle of approval lifts a tiny weight off his chest. Flash ignores him for most of the time, too, which leads Peter to believe he's due for a round of being picked on sometime tomorrow morning.

Michelle approaches Peter just as everyone's leaving; Ned's sitting next to him while he checks his bag for his homework, determined to finish at least most of it tonight before going out to patrol.

He looks up at her. She's staring at him rather curiously, head cocked, brows furrowed. He almost expects her to snort at him, flip him off, and walk away, yelling, "See ya tomorrow, Parker!" like she usually does. This time, what she does is unexpected.

Michelle gives him an uncharacteristic look of concern, her eyes sweeping over his bent form. "Do you want a hug?"

Peter blinks in surprise. "What?"

"You look really, I dunno... tense." She blows a strand of hair out of her face. "Is it okay if I hug you? I know sometimes it helps. Plus I feel like we're all really stressed today and could use something to hold onto."

Peter looks down at his hands. They're shaking. "That... that actually sounds nice."

Ned joins the hug, too. MJ's arms are surprisingly strong, but they're not desperate like May's. They feel like an anchor.

And Peter wonders how long it's been since he's felt this safe. 

* * *

 

It's raining.

Of course it's raining.

Peter coughs into his arm as he lands on another rooftop, knees nearly giving out beneath him. His other hand presses into his side, which is slick and wet with water and... blood, probably, seeing as how warm it feels in contrast to the rain drenching him.

His mask has a really nice ventilation system, so Peter isn't worried about getting enough oxygen. Really, as long as he manages to get home soon, he'll be able to stitch himself up quickly and finally get to bed.

He'll be fine.

The knife was deep, but he'll be fine.

He should've left it in; At least he wouldn't be bleeding so heavily now. And his webs are running out, which means no staunching the blood flow unless he wants to walk all the way home.

In the rain.

(It's so cold.)

It's at that moment that Karen speaks up in his suit. Peter almost doesn't catch what she's saying at first because he's so focused on swinging to the next building without hurting himself too much; eventually he makes out something about a call from Mr. Stark.

" _Kid?_ "

"Yeah," Peter croaks, grunting a bit as he swings to the top of the next building. "I'm here, Mr. Stark."

_"I told you to call me Tony. Hey, Karen sent me a report of your vitals, you're hurt - where are you headed now?_ " He sounds upset.

"I'm, uh, heading home."

_"Uh..._ " Tony's voice comes out as a low drawl in Peter's ears. " _No, you're not. You're coming to the Tower."_

Peter nearly slips off the roof in his surprise. He takes a few steps back and adjusts his grip on his side. "What? Why?"

" _I'm gonna fix you up. Get over here. Actually, no, stay where you are. I'll have a suit pick you up._ "

"Mr. Stark, you don't have to do this-" Fuck, his side  _really_ hurts. This won't heal as quickly as Peter hoped.

_"Too late. I've already sent one."_ A pause. " _See you soon, kid._ "

He hangs up. Peter feels the silence in his suit like a physical weight.

The rain is still cold.

* * *

Tony Stark is surprisingly adept at first aid.

(Peter shouldn't really be surprised, though, what with all the man's seen.)

(Stupid.)

His... boss? Mentor? (Father figure?) He stitches Peter up quicker than the teenager ever could, careful and precise and giving him some pills to help with the pain, several doses more than should probably be healthy because of how fast he burns through it. Half an hour later, the wound has been cleaned, stitched up, and bandaged.

Tony whistles at all the blood. "The hell kind of knife was that?"

Peter can see the way his face is pulled tight.

He's worried.

"I'm sorry," Peter says softly, realizing how late it is.

The Avenger looks at him in surprise. He leans against his knees, on the floor by the table Peter sits on, his expression morphing into one of stern determination. "Kid, it's not your fault."

He got stabbed and couldn't take care of himself and made everyone worry and May is probably still up, sitting on the couch, staring at the door and waiting for him to come home.

"I called May," Tony says as if he can tell what Peter's thinking. "She knows you're safe."

"Thank you." His eyes prickle. He grips the edge of the table.

Tony lays his hands on Peter's - large, calloused, warm on small, cold, tense - and smiles. "Chin up, kid," he softly. "You're doing great."

Peter believes him.

* * *

 

He gets back home at four am, declining Tony's offer to stay the night. May must be worried out of her mind.

She's asleep on the couch, head fallen to her shoulder in a half-laying-half-sitting position, a cell phone resting in one palm.

Peter grabs a blanket from the closet down the hall and tucks her in, taking a moment to stare at her pinched and worried forehead. He forces himself to turn away and trudge up the stairs to get ready for bed.

His homework is lying on his desk unfinished. Peter ignores it and strips out of his suit, throwing it in the laundry basket, yawning. The bandages around his midsection hold tight.

He steps into the shower.

The water is near scalding. He doesn't mind.

Later, with only about two hours till he has to get up for school, Peter makes his way back downstairs and onto the couch with May. He curls up next to her, careful not to jostle her too much so she doesn't wake, wrapping himself in his own blanket. (An Avengers print.)

He falls asleep to the  _patter-patter_ of the rain outside his window and his aunt's steady heartbeat.

**Author's Note:**

> hope everyone's had an okay day. treat yourself to some tea and listen to music, and it's okay to cry. dude was a hero. i think we should all take some time to mourn.
> 
> let me know what you thought of the lil story


End file.
